Oh, yeah. Passion. How to keep the lurve alive.

If you scroll down or if you go clickety-click here you’ll see that a while ago I scribbled a post about the Three Ps of Creative Writing. I also spoke about those Ps on a podcast with Allison Tait. (She’s the bomb by the way. People dig those podcasts so much. Check them out. Later. Once you’ve read this. No! Don’t go! Here’s some pretty words to make you stay…).

The third P as I declared it, is Passion. I remember Al asking, ‘So Jen, how do you keep the passion flowing?’ I gabbled something. I don’t remember exactly what. Something about reading poetry. And watching films about C S Lewis. Or the Brontes. Or Will Ferrell. It was near the end of the interview. I had a touch of brain fatigue.

But the main thing about the Passion P is that I encourage writers to CONSTANTLY do stuff that reminds them about why they love words. And when I say love, I mean LUUUURVE. Like in a sexy, juicy, can’t get enough of your love babe, Barry White kind of way.

When we’re bogged down in the daily grind of writing a book we can forget this. We can forget why we love words. In fact, somewhere inside a manuscript I usually forget what the hell I saw in words in the first place. Words start to repulse me. They lose all their charm. I wouldn’t go for coffee with ’em, let alone light the fire and throw down the bearskin rug …

In my creative writing classes I put a lot of emphasis on play. Play and Passion, two ends on the same crayon. Okay. Wonky metaphor. But I really really REALLY think we should never stop playing. It’s such a crock to assume that play should be confined to childhood. No wonder kids run rings around us in terms of creativity. They’re still playing! They’re still happily engaging with the creative force in an eager, unfettered way.

Lucky duckies. To play is to DELIGHT. In fact, I like to say that to play is to step into de light. Good hey? Step into De Light. You can make a meme of that if you like.

These past few weeks I’ve rekindled my Word Love. I’ve been writing, of course. Working with words. But I’ve also been Playing with words. Carelessly, freely, intuitively. Words as Art.

I’ve got a mangled old Girls Own Annual and I’ve turned into an art book. A place for wordplay. Inspired and guided by one of my dearest online friends, Lynn Whipple, I’ve found another way to stay connected with my passion for words. To remember their charm. To feel the rush again. To get all giddy and heady and flushed again.